Pain of The Game is marked by The Silence

By ALAN FRASER

Last updated at 07:52 12 February 2007

When they speak of The Game in Dublin, they are referring to the All Ireland Gaelic Football Final at Croke Park and not just on the occasions it features their local heroes, affectionately known as The Dubs.

That was until yesterday when Ireland v France became The Game, a Six Nations Championship encounter which in Ireland had assumed significance and importance beyond mere sport.

Solemn editorials in serious newspapers told of a ‘momentous historic event’ after which Ireland would never again be the same.

Playing for the first time a ‘foreign’ sport, as rugby used to be categorised by the Gaelic Athletic Association, at both the cathedral and shrine of Ireland’s ‘own’ sports of football and hurling, really meant that much to this modern European nation.

Never mind the country, Irish rugby may never again be the same.

For at the end of The Game came The Silence, marking the crushing devastation of defeat that even into injury-time and that dramatic second French try was poised to become a famous victory. In that instant, six decades of Grand Slam dreams vanished for another year and the eBay price of tickets for the visit of England crashed.

No wonder some Irish players slumped to their knees in despair at the final whistle while others, too exhausted by their herculean second-half effort, merely dropped their heads deep into their chests.

Home fans were no less stunned and heartbroken. There had never been a silence like it in the history of Irish rugby, given that never in more than a century had anything like 81,572 gathered to watch the oval ball game.

Irish sport’s cathedral and shrine had also become its mausoleum. At least for the moment. Once the initial disappointment recedes, however, Ireland as a nation can feel proud of their team, stadium and new-found maturity which allowed old prejudices to be set aside in the name of progress.

Not everyone agreed with the decision, from the GAA diehards to those publicans south of the Liffey who put on shuttle buses to and from the stadium and threw in a free pint, all for five euros.

Humour, as ever, stepped in to ease the pain. "I like looking at bank managers and accountants killing each other," a Northside resident new to the subtleties of rugby union declared.

"When's your Wembley going to be finished?" another asked in a manner indicating a follow-up. Sure enough. "Because when it is, it won't be as big as Croke Park."

This is a stadium, bigger in Europe than all but Milan's San Siro and the Nou Camp in Barcelona, conceived and built by the non-professional GAA. That does not half give lie to the phrase 'a bunch of amateurs'.

As emotional an occasion as yesterday was, the bloody history of Croke Park dictates there will be more symbolism in the game against England.

It remains to be seen if 'Lest We Forget' banners appear, as has been suggested, or if God Save The Queen provokes hostile reaction. Locals expect not. Ireland has moved on.